Wedding Best
by ellenscult
Summary: There's no way Tony's letting Gibbs wear that tie. GIBBS/DINOZZO. Warning: contains M/M sex. Contains reference to possible S9 content.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: **_This story contains explicit male/male sex. If this kind of thing isn't to your liking, if you're underage, or if m/m sex is illegal where you are, please don't read this story. Life is far too short to be upset by things you read on the internet._

**Disclaimer:**_ Not my sandbox, I'm just playing in it. Thanks to all involved in making NCIS such a fantastic show._

**Note:**_ This fic contains a link to a Zegna tie. If you want to follow the link, this story is cross-posted to livejournal, under the username the_proofreader. Sorry I can't include a decent link here!  
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><p>Gibbs eyes the slim package in Tony's hand. It's wrapped in tasteful dove grey paper, the folds crisp, with no indication it's been handled by a blind monkey with the DTs, which rules out Tony, nor any of the glitter or black ribbons that would indicate Abby'd had something to do with it. "Get the store to wrap it?"<p>

"Boss! You wound me!" Tony protests, pressing his other hand to his chest. Under the pressure of Gibbs' raised eyebrow, he relents. "Yeah, but you need this, boss, you really do. Trust me." He brings out the smile he uses to get pretty baristas to put an extra shot of espresso in Gibbs' coffee.

Gibbs narrows his eyes.

Tony sighs. "All right. Put it this way, there's no way in hell you're wearing that, that... _thing_ to Palmer's wedding." He flicks the offending tie with a disdainful finger.

"What's wrong with it?" Gibbs protests, hiding his amusement.

"Oh, come on, boss!" Tony's forehead is furrowed in indignation. "It isn't even your third best court tie! Abby will kill me for letting you wear it, right after she kills you for thinking that, that _rag!_ is acceptable wedding wear! Just put this on." He shoves the package into Gibbs' hand, then tugs at the offending neckwear.

Gibbs takes a moment to admire the handsome conservative purple tie with darker diagonal stripes that graces Tony's dress shirt. "Fine. But you owe me."

"Hey!" Tony protests. "Have you any idea how much-" he breaks off and takes a deep breath. "Fine. Just put the damn tie on."

Gibbs slides a finger under the tape, pulls out the long strip of silk. It feels so good that for a moment the color doesn't register. Then he rears back, holding the tie out like a poisonous snake. "What the hell were you thinking, DiNozzo?"

Tony tuts, takes the tie from him and, lightning-quick, has it round his neck. "I was thinking that I wanted my boss to show his respect for the people he works with." He wraps the narrow end round and round, feeds it up behind, then down and through, pulling the knot tight. "I was thinking I wanted to look at the wedding photos and not have everyone wondering how come I let the most important person in my life wear clothes I wouldn't even donate to Goodwill." He grins suddenly, like sunshine breaking through clouds. "And I was thinking you can wear it next time you're in a meeting with Fornell. It'll kill him to not be able to bring it up."

Gibbs knows when he's beaten, at least, if he doesn't want to spend the night on the couch. He rolls his eyes. "At least I don't have to look at it."

"I'll do all the looking for you," Tony beams. "Come on, or we'll be late." He crooks his elbow in invitation.

Gibbs snorts and heads for the door, ignoring it. "You just want to take it off me," he growls as they head outside.

"You betcha!" Tony bounces after him, and privately, though he'd spend a month being tortured before he'd admit it, Gibbs thinks that maybe this fashion thing is worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: **_This story contains explicit male/male sex. If this kind of thing isn't to your liking, if you're underage, or if m/m sex is illegal where you are, please don't read this story. Life is far too short to be upset by things you read on the internet._

**Disclaimer:**_ Not my sandbox, I'm just playing in it. Thanks to all involved in making NCIS such a fantastic show._

**Note:**_ This fic contains a link to a Zegna tie. If you want to follow the link, this story is cross-posted to livejournal, under the username the_proofreader. Sorry I can't include a decent link here!  
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><p>The wedding is wonderful. Everything goes off without a hitch and Gibbs ignores Abby when she flicks a black-painted nail at his new tie and raises an eyebrow suggestively. He also ignores the whispered betting pool on how Tony got him to wear it that makes the rounds of the reception, even when Tony sulks because they won't let him place a bet. As far as Gibbs can tell, the equal favorites are <em>blackmail<em> and _sexual favors_, but _an experimental drug that causes temporary color blindness_ is on the list somewhere.

There are speeches - Ducky makes everyone laugh when he starts reminiscing, then cuts himself off on purpose - and there are toasts, and Jimmy's wife is beautiful in her elegant dress. Then there's dancing and more drinks and through it all, there's Tony looking handsome in his charcoal grey suit and ready smile. Abby dances with Tim and with Tony and with Ducky, then she pulls Gibbs onto the floor for the one obligatory dance that'll keep her from pouting at him for a month. Half-way through, in a complicated maneuver that's probably rehearsed, Abby and Ziva somehow end up in each other's arms, which wouldn't be so bad, only in the process, they've managed to get Tony in Gibbs' arms too.

Tony laughs and flashes the smirking women his _I'll get you my pretties_ glare, then lets Gibbs swing him round the floor. When Tim joins in the smirking and asks if it's their turn to get married next, Gibbs drags Tony off to the bar so he doesn't spoil the mood by threatening to fire people or break vital body parts. He has a moment of doubt, but then Tony hands him a bourbon and nudges his shoulder. They clink glasses.

"Still don't wanna," Tony says, watching their friends gyrate. "Besides, you couldn't afford to keep me in decent clothes."

"Not if you're expecting me to buy you two hundred and fifty dollar ties, no," Gibbs says drily.

"How did you- Of course, you know. You know everything," Tony says with a wry smile.

Gibbs tips his glass in Tony's direction. They hang out until the reception starts winding down, then wish Mr and Mrs Autopsy Gremlin a happy honeymoon and head off home. As soon as they're through the door, Gibbs reaches up to loosen off his tie, only to have his hand slapped away.

"Hey!"

"Nuh-uh," Tony wags a finger at Gibbs and comes closer than he knows to losing it. "I promised I'd take it off." His voice is husky and he licks his lips as his gaze drops from Gibbs' eyes to his lips to that damn tie.

"Better get a move on, then," Gibbs says calmly, as though his pants aren't getting a little snug.

"Your wish is my command," Tony says, taking a step closer. He runs a hand up the front of Gibbs' shirt, fingers brushing over a nipple that hardens gratifyingly quickly. He licks his lips again and leans forward and Gibbs finds himself leaning forward too, but just as their lips brush together, Tony steps back with mischief dancing in his eyes. He takes another step and Gibbs feels a tug at his neck.

Tony's holding onto the tie. Gibbs suppresses his instinctive protest, his urge to free himself, and forces his feet to move, his shoulders to relax. They don't often have the time and the inclination to play like this, and a playful Tony, while bearing a passing resemblance to a kid with ADHD, is infinitely preferable to a miserable Tony.

Gibbs has had enough of watching Tony be miserable and doing nothing to help.

Besides, _this_ playful Tony wants to play with him, and Gibbs is all in favor of that; parts of him can't wait to be played with. So he lets Tony lead him to the bedroom, stands patiently and turns at Tony's request, lets those warm hands strip off his jacket, his shoes. They smooth up his calves inside his trouser legs and return with his thin black socks. Tony gently rubs the marks the elastic has left on his skin, identifying them by feel, soothing the itch of leg hair that's been squashed all day.

Then Tony comes up on his knees and puts his hands on Gibbs' belt. Little Gibbs promptly salutes him. Gibbs has to move, adjusting himself inside his dress slacks, and Tony nips at his fingers. He kisses them better, letting his lips linger around each fingertip and Gibbs finds his mouth going dry. Tony kisses the head of his cock through his pants, then unzips them slowly, teasingly. He shuffles back to let them drop to the floor, helps Gibbs to step out of them one leg at a time, then covers the soft jersey of his shorts with butterfly kisses until it's all Gibbs can do not to rip them off and shove his dick down DiNozzo's throat.

But Tony knows all of Gibbs' tells by now, knows the way his breath hitches and the muscles in his thighs clench. By the way that still-flat stomach is so tensed it could take a punch, Tony knows it's time to back off, stop teasing, get down to business. So he strips off Gibbs' shorts, places one last kiss right on the weeping tip of Little Gibbs' deep red head, then climbs back to his feet. He kicks off his own shoes as he runs nimble fingers over shirt buttons, folds up the collar and tugs the shirt down the ex-marine's arms, leaving Gibbs clad in a plain white t-shirt.

Oh, and that damn tie.

"On the bed, sailor," Tony orders as he divests himself of his wedding finery. He'll have to get up later to hang it up, or it'll be creased beyond hope, but right now, proper suit care can wait. Gibbs can't.

Gibbs pulls back the comforter, pushing it down to the bottom of the bed, then lies down on his back, arranging himself in the middle of the mattress. He watches impatiently as Tony gets naked, then fishes lube and a condom out of the nightstand before joining him on the bed. He makes a nick in the condom packet, the better to open it with slick fingers, and drops his supplies on the sheet.

"So now you've got me where you want me, what're you going to do about it?" Gibbs asks, thoroughly enjoying the sight of naked Tony, all solid muscles and smooth, warm skin, and here in his bed.

"Have my wicked way with you," Tony says, in a tone that makes it clear Gibbs really shouldn't ask him to state the obvious. "And show you just why that two hundred and fifty dollar tie is worth every cent."

Gibbs raises an eyebrow in mute challenge. Tony smirks. Oh yeah, this is going to be fun, all right. Tony runs a hand over the jut of Gibbs' hip and up under his t-shirt. He bends down - Gibbs has been in awe of his flexibility since they started fucking - and kisses him, slow and hot and promising dirty things, until they're both rock hard and panting. Then he maps a path down to Gibbs' nipples via his jawline and every single hotspot on his neck, his collarbones. Tony sucks hard, presses the flat of his tongue over the nipple until the cloth is wet and Gibbs' nipple shows through, a dark, hard point. Then he does the same to the other nipple and Gibbs really wants to roll them both over and get his dick inside Tony as fast as possible, but Tony isn't done playing yet, has hardly started.

A whine escapes Gibbs' throat as Tony uses both hands to pinch his nipples through the damp cloth, as he blows cool air over them and they get impossibly harder and so does his cock.

"Not seeing the benefit of that tie," Gibbs rasps and Tony grins.

"Oh, I'm sure you will by the time I'm done." He tugs the t-shirt up, Gibbs doing a half-crunch to let him pull it over his shoulders and down his arms. When he lays back again, the tie slithers across his chest, one end trailing down into his armpit. The silk is warm, its weight a surprise. It feels… nice.

Tony takes a moment to survey the man stretched out in front of him, as though Gibbs is the ultimate in dessert trolleys and he's determined to sample it all. "You know, after so many years listening to Abby and Ducky go on about proper scientific procedure, we're going to have to do this properly or I'm not going to be able to look them in the eye on Monday," he says conversationally.

Gibbs frowns. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Three words, Jethro," Tony says, rubbing his thumbs in gentle circles to keep Gibbs' nipples peaked. "Proper. Experimental. Methodology. Which means, we need something for you to compare with this." He takes the end of the tie and trails it lightly over a nipple. Gibbs' breath hitches and he finds himself arching up, eager to feel more of that delicious silk on his body, but Tony lifts it away, ignoring his glare.

"I'm limiting my experiment to non-viscous areas," Tony says, and Gibbs is clearly going to have to find some way of keeping him out of the lab and the morgue if this is how he's going to talk during sex. "Because I don't think my dry cleaner would be too happy if I had to take this tie in to get certain bodily fluids out of it. And I really don't want to have to throw it out." As he talks, he's tugging at the knot, loosening it until the tie is undone. He pulls gently, freeing up some slack, and runs it over the same nipple as before, only this time he doesn't stop. He keeps on going down Gibbs' body, the silk sliding over ribs, stomach, abdomen, then skirting the top of his pubic hair. It glides over his hip, flowing down his side like water, then reverses direction and comes back up, only to curve around onto his thigh.

Gibbs can't help himself; his head falls back and he groans. The end of the tie flicks teasingly over his inner thighs and Gibbs parts his legs so Tony has more room to play. He wants nothing more than to feel it move up, over his balls, his cock; he bets it'll be incredible, but no, Tony's going lower still, to the sensitive back of his knee, and oh, the other end is free and Tony's using it on his throat, his chest at the _same time_. When the tie reaches his foot, Gibbs groans again as the silk pools and slithers over the sensitive skin.

Tony torments him with the tie for what feels like hours, but it's only ever on his right side, his right nipple, his right leg. He does finally give in and let it glide over Gibbs' carefully-held scrotum, but it goes nowhere near his aching cock, despite Gibbs' urging: he has to hold onto the headboard to stop himself grabbing Tony's hand and forcing it where he wants it to go, and you betcha Tony's noticed.

So all in all, it really shouldn't be that much of a surprise when Tony leans over Gibbs, brushing a kiss over his parted lips, only to reach under the pillow and retrieve the _other_ tie, the one he wouldn't let Gibbs wear to the wedding.

"This is my control group," Tony says, holding it up in front of Gibbs. It actually does have a silk content - Gibbs knows, because he actually does read labels from time to time - even though it's something like 5 percent. He revises that down to 3 percent the instant the tie touches his skin. It feels… cheap. A little scratchy. He wonders why he hadn't noticed that before, but then again, he's usually got a shirt and a t-shirt between his skin and that tie. Which he really doesn't want touching him, especially not where Tony's got it heading.

As he twists away, Tony smirks. "So is the tie worth it?"

Gibbs would scowl, but he can't quite remember how. "So it feels better. That doesn't make it worth two hundred and fifty bucks."

"Really?" Tony trails Gibbs' old tie aimlessly over the left side of his body, painting invisible swirls in polycotton with a minute trace of silk. Too late, Gibbs realises where the tie's heading, just as it brushes over the head of his cock.

He flinches, sits bolt upright, his hands covering his delicate parts. "Tony!"

Tony sits back on his heels and holds up the inferior tie. A smear of pre-cum darkens the fabric and glistens stickily in the lamplight. Then he holds up Gibbs' new tie, the one that has his right side still humming in satisfaction.

Gibbs knows when he's beaten. He snatches his old tie from Tony and tosses it towards the trash can. "Fine. Worth every cent."

Tony beams. "And the color?"

"Yeah, okay, it isn't all that bad." Well, no one said he had to be gracious in defeat, after all.

Tony cups Gibbs' head and rewards him with a deep, lingering kiss, then eases him back down to the mattress. In moments he has the older man shivering under a silken onslaught, soothing everywhere the other tie touched, except the obvious. That, he kisses better. Then he kisses it again, just to make sure. Then, because Gibbs is honest-to-god _whimpering_ here, he takes Little Gibbs into his mouth and sucks appreciatively, humming as the flavor hits his taste buds.

He pulls off far too soon for Gibbs' liking, but Tony makes up for it by sheathing him in the condom, covering it in lube and sitting down on him before Gibbs even thinks to prepare Tony. "Don't you-" he manages to gasp, but Tony gives him a heated look and moves his hips in a circle.

"You know… the great thing… about regular sex… and… _mmm, yeah…_ alcohol?" Tony murmurs, linking hands with Gibbs for stability as he begins to move up and down. Gibbs would answer, but right now he barely registers it was a question. "No?… Heh…" Tony tilts forwards a little and the next thrust obviously hits the spot because he gasps and clutches Gibbs' hands even harder.

"… Alcohol?" Gibbs asks, right before his eyes roll back and he thrusts up hard and fast two, three times before he can get himself back under at least some kind of control.

"What?" Tony gasps, moving faster. "Alcohol? _Oh, god!_" He lets go of Gibbs' hands and leans forward again, propping himself on his elbows over the older man. Gibbs brings his knees up and grabs hold of Tony's hips, helping him rock faster. "Yeah, like that, mmm, fuck!"

"God, Tony," Gibbs groans and gives in, hammering into Tony's ass like he's been wanting to all goddamn day. Tony lets him, holding still with a series of moans that go straight to Gibbs' balls, which promptly draw up tight. Tony reaches down and takes hold of himself, pumping furiously, coming with a shout right before Gibbs loses it too.

He holds Tony as they shiver through the aftershocks of truly great orgasms, until he softens and starts to slip out of Tony's hot channel. Then Gibbs has to take hold of the condom so it doesn't slide off, and Tony rolls carefully to the side and sprawls out, his knees cracking as he stretches his legs. Gibbs grabs a tissue, wraps the condom in it, and wipes himself off. He hands the box to Tony, then pulls up the comforter once Tony's done, tugging him over for some never-to-be-described-as-such quality snuggling.

"You okay?" he asks, reaching back to snap off the light. "Not too sore?"

"Mmm, yeah," Tony says, burying his nose in the side of Gibbs' neck, "and nope, not sore. Just relaxed enough."

"The alcohol?"

"Mhm."

Gibbs presses a kiss to his ear, strokes a hand down Tony's back, then the backs of his fingers brush over something soft, silky- A moment later, he has the tie - the good tie - out from under Tony and carefully sets it on the nightstand.

"Mm?" Tony enquires sleepily, with a snuffle that Gibbs would rather be shot than admit is the cutest thing he's heard in decades.

"Just putting your investment somewhere safe," Gibbs says softly. "After all, it's worth every cent." But Tony's limp, out like a light. His weight blankets Gibbs' side, exactly where he should be, and Gibbs' last thought before he joins his lover in sleep is that Tony's right; this fashion thing - at least in this instance - is definitely worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

For once, the next time Gibbs sees Fornell it isn't Fornell visiting NCIS or dropping by the basement to share a drink with his friend. Gibbs and Ducky are called as witnesses for a case that's taken nearly two years to come to court. It had been a surprisingly successful joint operation between NCIS and the FBI to break the US end of a cartel with its fingers in everything from drugs to extortion, kidnapping and torture, and was moving into dealing arms to terrorist groups. Their downfall was in not being picky at how they acquired those arms in the first place; kidnapping quartermasters' families really hadn't gone over well with Gibbs.

Ducky's up first, leaving Gibbs sitting on his ass in the beige and tan waiting room. He knows from experience the coffee sucks, and anyway, if he drinks too much he'll get called the instant he moves to head to the restroom. Not for the first time, Gibbs regrets the necessity of this part of his job. Still, once the last of these dirtbags is in jail, he can sleep well knowing that the world is that little bit safer, at least for now. Of course, given he has Tony for a joint teddy bear-cum-electric blanket, chances are he'll be sleeping well anyway.

"Plotting someone's painful demise?"

Gibbs looks round as the seat next to him is taken. "Fornell. Haven't seen you around in a while."

"Yeah, well, I haven't had a good excuse to arrest one of your team in far too long. Getting better at hiding the bodies?" Fornell grins.

It's an evil grin, one part twisted amusement, one part competition, and Gibbs rises to the challenge. He lets his smirk grow; Fornell blinks first.

"What do you think, Tobias?" He straightens up; leaning his elbows on his knees is getting a little too painful to keep up these days.

Whatever Fornell was going to say is derailed by the Feeb's surprise. "What the hell are you wearing, Jethro?"

Gibbs strokes a hand over the pink paisley-patterned silk. "It's called a tie. I'd have thought you'd recognise it. Maybe you need to get yourself checked out - I hear dementia can sneak up on ya."

Fornell ignores the insult. "Did you lose a bet, or something? Or did DiNozzo blackmail you into wearing it?"

"Hey! It was a gift," Gibbs frowns. "It's Zegna. Apparently," he adds with a sour twist of his mouth.

Fornell frowns. He looks the agent over thoroughly, checking him out head to toe.

"You hitting on me, Tobias? 'Cos I'd've thought Diane would've warned you off me," Gibbs says. No way he's going to let on how uncomfortable his friend's making him feel.

"You aren't my type," Fornell says, then shakes his head. "I can't believe you got married again and didn't tell me."

"What the-"

"Oh, come on, Jethro!" Fornell says, getting up and pacing the small room. Gibbs has a moment to be thankful that it's empty apart from them before the Fed continues his rant. "The only time you let someone dress you up, you're married to them! Or it's Abby's doing, and you'd have told me if it was her." He stops abruptly in front of Gibbs and stares down at him. Gibbs keeps his back straight and meets his friend's eyes without flinching. "DiNozzo? Really? So, what, you're going to wait til you've got your twenty in and marry him? Or is he just going to be your dirty little secret?"

When Gibbs doesn't answer, Fornell huffs out a sigh of disbelief. "After everything you've put your boy through, he deserves to be treated a damn sight better."

Gibbs can feel his face tightening. "Damn it, Fornell, this isn't the time or the place."

"You're right," Fornell says, turning away and moving to sit at the far side of the room. "You can explain it to me later."

They sit in silence for the next ten minutes until at last Gibbs is called to take his place on the stand. It's awkward and uncomfortable and Gibbs is damned if he's going to sit here and explain himself, his relationship, to Tobias when he's about to step into a courtroom, but he can't help wanting to say _it isn't like that! It isn't like that at all._

Hell if he knows what it is like.

Later on, back at the office, Tony raises an eyebrow. It means _Everything okay? Should I come over to your place tonight?_ Gibbs gives a minute shrug, following up with a discreet shake of his head, then a brief lift of his eyebrows. _Don't know. Nope. I'll call you._ For a split second, disappointment flashes through his second's expressive green eyes, then he's standing tall, all business, filling Gibbs in on a possible hot lead in a cold case.

The lead isn't so hot that anything needs doing today, so when the clock hits 1730, Gibbs sends them all home. He wants nothing more than to be able to go to his lover and pull him close, be wrapped in those long arms, smell the indefinable male scent which belongs to Tony and no one else and is fast coming to mean _home_, but he can't, not without eyebrows being raised and questions being asked and certainly not without handing the director a big stick and saying _here, beat us with it_. So Gibbs pockets his badge, holsters his weapon, grabs his keys and heads home alone.

He has time to pull out a couple of portions of lasagne from the freezer and set them to defrost in the microwave while the oven heats, then change into faded jeans and an old USMC sweatshirt before the front door opens and Fornell walks on into his kitchen.

"Beer?"

"Sure." Fornell takes off his tie, rolls it up and sticks it in his pocket, then unbuttons the top two buttons on his shirt, all the while watching Gibbs move around the kitchen. He takes a seat at the table once Gibbs sets a bottle down in front of one of the place settings. "They're going over the money trail tomorrow," he says once he's had a long sip of the chilled brew. "Probably won't get to closing arguments before the end of next week."

Gibbs grunts and takes a slug from his own bottle of beer. "As long as they don't call me back." He steels himself, girds his loins, bites the bullet - better now than trying to eat with this knot in his stomach - and sets his one and only designer label tie down in front of Fornell. "Tony bought it so I wouldn't embarrass him at Palmer's wedding."

Fornell wipes his hand on his pants leg before fingering the smooth silk. "Nice," he says with appreciation. "Very nice. He go as your date?"

Gibbs grins. "I went as his. The team knows. They're okay with it, with us. I'm not ashamed of being with him."

"Good." Fornell nods, gives the tie one last stroke and hands it back. "What about your careers?"

Gibbs looks at the strip of silk in front of him. Such a small thing to mean so much, he thinks. Such a small thing, but to those who know him best - Ducky, Abby, Fornell, _Tony_ - it tells the world just as clearly as a wedding band that Gibbs is taken, spoken for, til death do us part.

"Like you said, I'm nearly at my twenty," he begins, then frowns. That isn't quite it, either. "If I could get away with holding hands in the bullpen… yeah, I probably still wouldn't. Not that kind of guy. Neither is he. I figure I'll retire, he'll take over the team. Maybe I'll consult; I hear the pay's better and I wouldn't have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to go to some crime scene. Maybe I'll find something else to do for a few years. Either way, I'll still be here, and so will Tony." Feeling drained, he moves the tie to a safer spot before fishing dinner out of the oven and dishing it up.

"Where is DiNutso, anyway," Fornell asks. "Not joining you tonight?"

With a shrug, Gibbs sits down to eat, but he only picks at his food. "Honestly? Wasn't sure how you'd take it. Didn't want you making him feel bad."

"No, you wouldn't want that, would you?" Fornell says cryptically. "So he's it, then? Your be all and end all?"

Gibbs slaps down his fork. "What do you want me to say, Tobias? That I love him? He knows that! Hell, you know that or you wouldn't have been getting at me over that damn tie! You want to hear that I'd rather ditch my career, my reputation, my pension - everything, rather than let him go? You want me to say he means more than Diane ever did? He means more than any of my wives ever did, apart from-"

"It's all right," Fornell says, putting his hand flat on the table between them. "No, I guess you don't need to say it. But I thought maybe Tony needed to hear it." With his other hand, he sets his mobile phone down on the table. There's a call open; even without his glasses, Gibbs knows it's Tony. "I know what a bastard you can be, Jethro," Fornell says. "I know you'd never have gotten involved with someone on your team unless you were sure it was worth it. I thought maybe he could stand to hear it too." He presses a button and suddenly Tony's on speakerphone. "You should come on over."

"Ah, Jethro?" There's a note of uncertainty in Tony's voice that makes Gibbs want to head slap everyone who's abandoned him, made him unsure of his welcome.

"You eat yet?" Gibbs asks gruffly.

"Not yet, no," Tony says, his voice tinny through the tiny speaker.

"I'll heat you something." It's a promise of more than simply dinner; Gibbs is telling his lover to come on home and Tony knows it.

"Be there in a half hour," Tony says and his relief is apparent.

"Drive safe," Gibbs says and Fornell hangs up. "That was a shitty trick," he says mildly as his old friend pockets the phone.

"Yeah, well, I don't have a toyboy buying me hundred dollar silk ties," Fornell bitches, and tucks into his dinner while Gibbs sets about defrosting another portion. "You make this or order it in?"

"Two hundred and fifty dollars," Gibbs says. "And Tony cooked."

"It's good," Fornell says, then gives another evil smile. "Maybe next time he's accused of murder I'll let him go for a pan of this. Emily would love it."

Gibbs snorts, and just like that, things fall back into place between them. They eat and shoot the breeze and when Tony arrives, Gibbs is just about ready to dish up his dinner too. He crosses the kitchen to where his lover's standing in the doorway, still looking a little unsure, and drops a brief kiss on his lips. "Sit. Beer?"

Tony's smile lights up the kitchen. "Sure, why not? Fornell," he nods, taking a seat between the two agents. "Good to see you outside of official business."

Fornell tilts his head, smirks. "You aren't so bad when you aren't being a pain in my ass."

Gibbs sets a plate in front of Tony and gripes, "The only ass he's a pain in had better be mine."

For a moment, his lover and his friend gape at him, then Tony snorts and Fornell shakes his head and from then on, the evening is a good one, filled with stories of ops gone bad, colleagues who couldn't detect their way out of a paper bag and outrageous stories of stupidest perps. Tony wins with a story about a teenager who'd called to report his neighbor's donkey that ate the cannabis he'd planted in his grandmother's garden.

"The best bit was they lived in this tiny ground floor apartment. The garden was about two feet square, God knows where the neighbor kept the donkey, and when we went inside, we found he'd gotten his grandma to plant windowboxes of the stuff too, only she'd got them mixed in between geraniums and begonias. She was so annoyed we were taking her plants she hit the officer with her handbag, and then she hit her grandson too. Funniest thing I've ever seen, this kid who's over six feet tall cowering from a four-foot nothing grandma and begging us to let him go sit in a patrol car," Tony laughs and Gibbs and Fornell join in.

Around 2200, Fornell makes an excuse and leaves. On the doorstep, he pauses. "Take care of this one, Jethro," he warns. "Don't fuck it up." He waits for Gibbs to nod, then calls out, "DiNutso! Next time, think you can get him in lime green?"

Tony laughs. "No bet," he calls back from the living room, where he's gathering up their empties. Later, when they're in bed and wrapped around each other, settled for sleep, Tony nuzzles into Gibbs' neck. "So the tie gave us away, huh?"

Gibbs kisses him on the temple. "Yeah. He saw it and figured you were staking a claim." When Tony stiffens in his arms, Gibbs hugs him tighter. "It's okay, it's your claim to stake," he smiles. "And it's a hell of a lot cheaper than a wedding."

Tony huffs, amused. "You'd know about that."

Gibbs hums in agreement. "'S why I'm saving up," he murmurs, stroking a hand down Tony's side. "Gotta do right by you." He lets himself fall towards sleep as, with distant amusement, he feels Tony's head pop up.

"Gibbs? Jethro? What does that mean? Are you-"

"Ssh. Sleeping," Gibbs whispers, and does, to dreams of dancing with Tony at their own wedding, of saying vows and meaning them, while wearing that tie. It's such a small thing to mean everything, but to the bottom of his heart, Gibbs is glad that it does.


	4. Chapter 4

It's a beautiful autumn day and the team's off rotation for the weekend. Gibbs celebrates by waking Tony with kisses and a killer blowjob, which Tony reciprocates enthusiastically once he's over the shock of being woken up early on a day off. They go running, but Gibbs leads them on their shorter route.

"What's up, getting old?" Tony teases, dancing out of reach. Gibbs growls at him and sets a punishing pace for the last half mile.

Once they're through the shower, Tony barely has time to change into a decent pair of jeans and a patterned shirt before someone's knocking at the front door. As he hurries downstairs, Gibbs opens the door to reveal Abby, wearing a plaid mini-skirt, an outrageous pair of steel-spiked platform boots and a babydoll t-shirt with a picture of a fossilised fairy skeleton on it.

"Gibbs!" Abby launches herself at him, giving him a quick bear hug. "Can Tony come out to play? Pleeeease?"

Gibbs finds himself laughing. "Sure, why not?" He turns to face his lover. "As long as you've brushed your teeth and washed your face, you can go play with Abby. Don't wander off with strangers."

"Ha, very funny," Tony grumbles, stepping down into the hallway. He reaches into the closet for a light jacket, grabs his wallet and keys. "You want to come?"

"Nope. Have fun," Gibbs says, dropping a kiss on Tony's forehead. He swats the younger man on the ass and shoos him out the door.

Tony lets Abby hug him too, then shrugs on his jacket. "Where to, my lady?" he asks, proffering his arm. He starts forward, then stops with a frown and fishes in his back pocket. He pulls out a twenty dollar bill and laughs.

"What?" Abby asks.

"Lunch money."

They take Abby's car and hit up a few shops, have lunch in a deli that does fantastic salads and sandwiches, follow it up with cheesecake from a bakery a block over. Tony picks up a slice for Gibbs. They find retro t-shirts for the team; a gremlin in a lab coat wielding a scalpel and a bone saw for Palmer, _The Man from U.N.C.L.E._ for Ducky. Miss Piggy in the middle of a karate chop for Ziva, a _Red Dwarf_ t-shirt for McGee with a Space Corps directive in binary across the front. Tony's pretty sure McGee will be able to read it without having to refer to an online translator. He doesn't know whether he hopes it actually is a Space Corps directive, or if it'd be funnier as something rude.

Gibbs gets another Muppet; Sam the Eagle glares at them in a way that makes them giggle for five minutes straight when they find it. Tony gets himself a Snake Plissken t-shirt and Abby ends up with a not-so-retro _Firefly_ t-shirt which has River proclaiming "I can kill you with my brain." Because Abby _totally_ could.

Mid-afternoon, Abby looks at her watch and squeaks, hustling them back to the car as fast as possible.

"Late for something?" Tony asks as she does a credible impersonation of Gibbs, speeding back to the house.

"I forgot I'm meant to be…" Abby trails off, going pink.

Tony waits until they're through the intersection before prompting her. "Meant to be? What? Where? Who?" He adds the last with a leer and even though Abby has her eyes firmly on the road, she reaches over and smacks him on the thigh. "Ow!"

"Watch it, mister," she threatens, then spoils it by giggling. "You are such a dog!" Of course, Tony has to defend his honor, so they pull up outside Gibbs' house still arguing. She follows him inside and there's Palmer waiting at the foot of the stairs, which throws Tony for a loop.

"Hey Tony," Palmer says with a grin. Ever since he got married he's worn an air of quiet confidence that fits him like a tailored suit.

"What're you doing here?" Tony asks. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but am I forgetting something?"

"No, I just thought I'd drop by. You said you'd show me the difference between Zegna and Armani. I was in the neighborhood, so…" He waves a hand, drawing Tony's attention to the mug he's holding.

"Gibbs got you coffee?" Tony asks, incredulous. "And you're drinking it? Voluntarily? Wow."

"I'll leave him in your capable hands, then," Abby says cheerfully. She plants a kiss on Tony's cheek, then gives Palmer a hug and hurries out of the house.

"You know, I'd think she was on something, but I bought her a Caf-Pow! an hour ago." Tony shuts the door behind her. "Might as well come on up."

He spends almost an hour pointing out the subtle differences in style, cut, the finishing techniques that make buying a designer suit worthwhile. Tony even pulls out one of Gibbs' old Sears suits for comparison. In the end, Jimmy promises never to buy another chain store suit and Tony thinks it's time well spent.

"I'm happy you see the light, padawan," Tony grins, leaning against the wall. "So what're you doing the rest of the day? Going to surprise Mrs Gremlin with a grand romantic gesture?"

"Something like that," Palmer smiles. "Oh, hey, could I get another coffee before I head out?"

"Sure, no problem. Sorry, I'm a terrible host," Tony apologises. "I'll just get changed."

"Well, I have to go in five," Palmer says apologetically.

"When you put it like that…" Tony grins. "Come on, I can get changed later. Just don't spill your coffee on my suit."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Palmer says and lets Tony lead the way to the kitchen. He wanders casually over to the back door as Tony fishes mugs out of the cupboard. "Huh. I wonder what Gibbs is building out there?"

"What?" Tony frowns. "He hasn't said anything about building something out there."

"Maybe you should come see." Palmer opens the door and steps outside, Tony impatient at his heels. He moves aside and Tony stops dead.

"What the- Jethro?"

There's an arbor set up in the middle of the garden, decorated with swathes of white and purple fabric. Several rows of chairs hold Jackson and Senior, Fornell and Emily, the rest of the team and a few other people from the Yard - Abby's changed into a fetching black lace number, complete with long gloves and a parasol - and to one side there a couple of long tables hold plates of food. In front of the arbor stands Ducky, with a face-splitting smile, a woman Tony hasn't seen before, and Gibbs.

He's wearing an Armani suit and the tie that Tony bought him to wear to Palmer's wedding and he holds out a hand.

"Is this- You bastard," Tony says, but his cheeks ache from grinning so hard, and he's across the lawn before he knows it. "You haven't even asked me."

Gibbs takes Tony's hands in his and gazes into his eyes like they aren't surrounded by friends and colleagues, like they're a couple out of any one of a thousand romantic films, and Tony loves it, loves him.

"Anthony, will you marry me?" Gibbs asks. "Here, in front of all our friends and family. I want everyone to know how much you mean to me." His voice drops to that intimate rasp that sends a shiver through Tony and makes him glad he has his suit jacket buttoned. "I love you, Tony."

"You don't do anything the easy way, do you?" Tony asks, amused. He steps closer, feeling the heat of the older man all along his front. "Yes, I'll marry you, Leroy Jethro second-b's-for-bastard-Gibbs. But you owe me a honeymoon."

"Of course," Gibbs says, but he's smiling and Tony's smiling and it takes a discreet cough from Ducky to get things moving.

There's a whirl of vows and rings and a kiss that makes Tony want to haul Gibbs inside and do filthy things to him, never mind that they have guests. And then they're married - really, truly, til death do us part _married_ and everyone crowds round, congratulating them, until Gibbs whistles sharply and tells them all to go eat.

The food is good - it looks catered, but it looks as though Abby and Ziva and Ducky have brought along a little something too, which just makes it better. There are best man speeches from Ducky and Palmer, even though Tony hadn't had the chance to ask him. There are toasts to love and health and happiness, to enduring friendships and to wedded bliss. Fornell tells Tony he knows a good divorce lawyer, but promises Gibbs this is one not-yet-ex he has no interest in wooing. Well, only on a professional basis. Tony laughs and then has to remind Gibbs he has no interest - personal or professional - in Fornell and the FBI.

Later on, with candles and lanterns lighting the garden in the mellow fall evening, Gibbs holds Tony in his arms and they sway to slow music. Jimmy dances with his wife, Fornell with Ziva, Ducky with Abby, McGee with Jackie, the director's wife. Senior cuts in on Fornell and leads Ziva away, while Jackson tells Emily stories from Leroy's childhood.

"I can't believe you threw a surprise wedding," Tony says, brushing his cheek against his husband's.

"I can't believe you didn't figure it out," Gibbs replies, his thumb rubbing circles through the soft fabric of Tony's shirt at the small of his back.

"Why?" Tony leans back just enough to make out his lover's eyes.

"Because you're a damn good investigator," Gibbs says with a mock scowl. Then as Tony rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to argue, he says, "You're it for me, Tony. There isn't a day to come that I won't want you by my side, and I know you feel the same way."

"How can you be so sure?" Tony asks. "I mean, you could meet someone else, or you could decide I'm too annoying. Or Caroline Winberg could come to her senses and demand I be her love slave."

"Ten years, Tony. Ten years. And you bought me this damn tie, and I wear it every chance I get," Gibbs says, his eyes warm with affection. "I figured it was your way of asking me to marry you. And every time I wear it, this is me saying yes."

Tony's eyes widen in surprise. "Oh! You know, you should really fire me, boss," he grins ruefully. "I honestly hadn't figured that out. Maybe I was afraid you wouldn't want to be stuck with me."

Gibbs huffs a laugh. "If any of my ex-wives had asked me to wear a pink paisley silk tie, I wouldn't have married them."

"You'd have worn it for Shannon," Tony says. In his tone is all the reassurance Gibbs needs. They'll always be a part of him, but Tony's never felt overshadowed by their ghosts, not in their personal life, not in their home, and in return, Gibbs doesn't feel the need to protect their memories, to guard his heart against intrusion, against the possibility of love.

"Yeah, I would," Gibbs says. "But I'm wearing it for you."

"So what you're saying is that tie is your engagement ring," Tony says teasingly. "Are you calling me cheap?"

"Never," Gibbs smiles. He leans forward and kisses Tony as they move together in the warm evening air, surrounded by friends and family, everyone they love. And even the ghosts of all those they couldn't save, who stand in the background of their relationship, of their lives, have no power to darken this one perfect day, their wedding day.

The photos come back a week later and even though there was nothing formal, Tony's favorite, the one that ends up framed and sitting on the mantelpiece, is one taken by Jimmy, of the moment when Jethro took Tony's hands. Everyone's smiling at them, but Jethro only has eyes for Tony. And the tie - their tie - looks-

"You know it really brings out the blue in your eyes," Tony muses, setting it back. "And your hair-"

A hand reaches out and swats the back of Tony's head, but it turns into a caress halfway through. "You were saying?"

"You look really good." Tony turns and kisses his husband long and slow. "For a guy your age," he adds, when they break apart, and Gibbs has to pin him down and show him that _age_ just means _stamina_, especially when Tony's hands are tied and he can't do more than wriggle and moan and curse Gibbs for being such a sadist.

Later - much later - they lie in a tangle of limbs and cooling sweat and savor the afterglow. Tony strokes the tie lightly. "Best money I ever spent."

Gibbs strokes Tony's thigh and hums in agreement. "At least I know what to get you for our anniversaries."

"Yeah?" Tony's eyes light up.

"Yup. Every year's gonna be silk."

"I can live with that," Tony says sleepily, nuzzling Gibbs' neck. And he can.


End file.
